


(what can you do with a) sentimental heart

by ErRose



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bones takes care of Jim, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Five Year Mission, Pre-Star trek I: The Motion Picture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 16:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20049322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErRose/pseuds/ErRose
Summary: After the Enterprise's five year mission, Jim comes home and Spock is missing. Break-ups are hard.





	(what can you do with a) sentimental heart

**Part 1: The break-up**

Just a letter. That was all he could bear. If he waited, tried to tell him in person, it would be messy. There would be crying. He would almost certainly change his mind, but this was for the best, it simply needed to be done. So he folded the handwritten letter in half, and set it down on Jim’s bedside table. With a small exhale that someone might misinterpret as a sigh, he picked up his small bag of belongings, and took one final look at his life before leaving it all behind. 

After their original five year mission, the _Enterprise_ needed to be refitted and it was going to take a few months, so in the meantime Jim Kirk accepted a teaching position at the academy for a semester. He enjoyed the job, but he had spent the morning filing crew requests in order to keep as many of his original senior officers as possible on board when the _Enterprise_ launched again. Just before his first class of the day, he was called into Admiral L’Ha’s office where he was offered him a promotion to admiral, but he turned it down out of hand. He knew what he wanted- to spend a few more years traveling the stars with the love of his life and best friend, Spock, while he was still young enough. However, they wouldn’t accept his rejection and asked him to think about it. 

It had been a long day, and he wanted nothing more than to get home to the small apartment he shared with Spock, and curl himself into that familiar Vulcan warmth. About halfway through the day, he felt something strange tugging on the bond, he couldn’t quite place what it was, but it felt different from anything else he had felt from Spock. He tried to shake it off, assuming it was likely because Spock was trying to hide an emotion from him. He understood that the bond that had formed between them was deeply intimate and that sometimes there were things you didn’t want to share, so he respected Spock’s privacy and just kept his focus on his work, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. 

The nagging feeling in the back of his mind persisted through the rest of the day, but he was determined to ignore it until Spock was ready to tell him. 

He finally left the academy and headed home. It was almost odd to call anywhere but the _Enterprise_ home, but he had come to the conclusion that he could call anywhere “home” as long as Spock was there with him. If Spock told him he wanted to move to the uninhabitable frozen tundra of the planet Crela, he would be out buying a winter coat the next day. 

But for the next few months, the cozy apartment in San Francisco would do. 

He keyed in the security code into the panel by the door, and the door slid open. He dropped the groceries that he had picked up on the way home onto the table and began unpacking them. Food didn’t bring Spock the same comfort it often brought Jim, but he figured a nice homemade meal couldn’t hurt. He put a pot of water on to boil, Spock hated replicated water for his tea. 

When Spock didn’t emerge at the sound of him puttering around the kitchen, Jim assumed he was meditating and decided to leave him alone until dinner was ready. As he chopped the vegetables he felt the ghost of Spock’s lips against the back of his neck, then snap away suddenly, as if Spock had allowed his mind to wander before quickly schooling his thoughts back to meditation. Jim smiled to himself and touched the spot Spock was thinking of. He tried to send his affections back over the bond, but it felt blocked somehow-like a garden hose with a kink in it. Feelings could still get through, but it was just a trickle of what it should be. He shrugged it off, Spock was likely a little embarrassed that his mind had wandered, and Jim wouldn’t distract him any more. 

When the soup was finally finished, he poured the hot water over Spock’s favorite tea blend, sending the spicy scent swirling through the house. He spooned the soup into two bowls and called out, “Spock, dinner’s ready!” When there was no answer, he set the bowls on the table and went to the bedroom. “Babe, I made your favorite. Come eat with me,” he called through the closed door. When there was still no movement from within, his worry continued to intensify. He opened the door and something on his nightstand caught his eye. White with gold trimming- the stationary Spock gave to him on his last birthday. Spock had used it on more than one occasion to leave Jim love letters- at least his own personal version of a love letter. His heart skipped a beat. Something still didn’t feel right, but hopefully Spock’s letter would explain where he was. 

His eyes darted to Spock’s meditation area. Everything was gone. The candles, the pillow he knelt on, all of it. Something dark and heavy gripped his stomach. It didn’t make any sense. He called out his name again only to be met with more silence. 

His knees wobbled as he picked up the letter and began reading it while making his way back to the kitchen. His breath caught in his throat and the world spun around him as he tried to process what he was reading. He was dimly aware of the sound of something crashing to the ground as he put his hand on the wall to keep his balance. By the time he reached the end of the letter, he had fallen to his knees- though he had no recollection of it happening- there was a sharp stinging pain in the palm of his hand. His throat tried to wail, but his lungs couldn’t get enough air to produce it. 

Kolinahr- the purging of all emotions. Jim knew the term, but never considered that Spock would pursue it. And now he was gone; on his way to Vulcan to strip himself of every feeling he ever had. Every memory he shared with Jim would be empty, devoid of any emotion. Hot tears burned streaks down his cheeks. He reached into his mind to pull frantically on that silver string that connected their minds. He tried to tell Spock that he could do more, do less, do whatever it was that he needed, if he would just come back. _Come home_. He repeated those two words through the bond over and over until he had no more tears left to cry and his body ached. 

He must have fallen into something like sleep because he blinked and when he opened his eyes again, morning sun was streaming in through the window. Absent-mindedly, he realized there was glass on the floor around him and his right hand was bloody, but he felt nothing. It felt as though someone had cracked his chest open during the night and ripped everything out, leaving him broken and hollow. In the back of his mind he remembered he had somewhere to be, but couldn’t muster the strength it took to remember what it was, nor could he bring himself to care. All he could do was read the note and try to numb himself from the effect it had on his heart, like his own personal Kolinahr. 

By the time someone buzzed the door for entry, Jim had no idea how much time had passed. He ignored it, trying to will the intruder away. 

The door buzzed again. “Jim, Spock, come on it's me. Open up,” he would recognize that southern drawl anywhere. After a moment of silence, he pounded his fist on the door. “I know you two can’t keep your hands off each other lately, but you can’t shirk the responsibilities you signed up for,” 

_I was supposed to teach a class this morning_, Jim thought with a strange detachment. There was no urgency in the thought, no remorse at wasting everyone’s time nor the need to fix his mistake. Just acknowledgement of a fact that didn’t matter. 

After another moment of silence, he heard the beeping of the keypad as the doctor frantically punched in the emergency medical sequence to open the door. When the door finally slid open, he saw Jim, and all irritation drained from his face and was replaced by worry. Jim was still on the floor, surrounded by shattered glass, clutching a crumpled piece of stationary to his chest. His eyes completely glazed over and stared, unseeing, at the wall. He tried not to wrinkle his nose at the smell of souring soup as he digested the scene and tried in vain to come up with any possible solution as to what happened here. He dropped to his knees next to him and did what he did best- doctor.

“Are you alright?” He asked with his two fingers pressed to Kirk’s neck to check his heart rate. His pulse was fine, but he slowly shook his head back and forth once. 

“What happened?” He peeled back Jim’s eyelids and studied the pupils. In an effort that looked almost painful, Jim shrugged his shoulders. The strangest result from McCoy’s tests was that Jim had just allowed him to do it. In all the years they had known each other, any time McCoy tried to get a better look at Jim, he was swatted away with a breezy “I’m fine, Bones,”. But this time, he just sat there and allowed it to happen. 

“Where’s Spock?” He thrust the thick paper into McCoy’s hand without a word. He scanned the words on the page, but didn’t bother reading the whole thing. “Just like that?”

Jim nodded slowly. A long buried anger began to surface in McCoy. With a shake of his head he looked down and realized that there was blood on the carpet. He grabbed Jim’s hand and looked at his palm, shallow cuts covered the surface, likely from the glass that littered the floor. They had already scabbed over and looked to be close to a day old. He looked back at the note and it confirmed his suspicions. Of course Spock dated his goddamn break-up letter. 

With a sigh, he brushed away the glass and sat next to Jim.

“You know, this really makes me resent him,”

“Don’t say that,” He croaked. There was no emotion in his voice, but at least he spoke.

“If he hadn’t saved both of our asses so many times I’d say I hate him,” 

“Please don’t,” 

“I do. He knew what it would do to you, to just up and leave like that- just because he’s scared. We’re all scared of things but we don’t run away and leave this carnage in our wake,” he gestured to the mess in the apartment. The dinner still on the table. The lamp Jim had knocked over when he fell, the blood on the floor from where he collapsed on top of the broken glass, but didn’t feel a thing. He was careful to avoid gesturing at Jim himself with his dirty clothes and greasy hair and unbandaged wounds. Not that Jim would have noticed or cared. 

“He didn’t leave because he was scared,” he monotoned. Even Norman, the android man from Mudd’s planet, had had more inflection in his voice. 

“Read between the lines, Jim. He is just as scared of being loved as you were of him doing _exactly_ this. How often were you in my medbay fretting over this? Over him leaving you and choosing a life of logic? And that was before you two were even together,” 

“He left because I’m not enough,” he continued as if McCoy hadn’t spoken at all, “And maybe in my heart I always knew that, but he let me believe I was- just for a little while. I guess that’s more than I ever should have even hoped for, but I almost thought that maybe I _was_ good enough. But I was just kidding myself. I never deserved him,” 

“Jim,” he said with a softness he so rarely employed, “you deserve the world. You deserve everything you’ve ever wanted. What you don’t deserve is for someone who claimed to love you to just pack up and leave without a word or warning. You don’t deserve any of this,”

For all he could tell, Jim didn’t even hear him. He just kept staring a thousand miles into the distance at the wall three feet in front of him. 

“We’ll find you someone better. Someone with a goddamn heart,” 

“I don’t want anyone else. If he had just rejected me out of hand, I could have handled it and moved on. But this? We were so close to... to happily ever after, or whatever our version of that would have been. Now I’ve tasted the universe’s ambrosia and I would rather starve to death than go back to whatever meager scraps it was that I had before.” It was eerie to hear Jim wax poetic with so little emotion in his voice.

“Don’t be so melodramatic. You’ve gotten over plenty of people, and you’ll get over Spock too,” Jim flinched at the name as if the name was a weapon the doctor had used to strike him. 

“Ever since I met him, every one of the flings I had with someone else was.... fake, forced. I tried to make them mean something- mean anything. But they never did. One look at... him and I just _knew_ I was lying to myself. Even Edith Keeler. I loved her, don’t get me wrong. But it was hollow compared to what I felt just looking at him. I think she knew that, too, but she was a product of her time and her time would never have accepted us. Even if they did believe that Spock was Chinese rather than a ‘little green man from outer space',” a wild bark of a laugh escaped his throat at the memory, startling both of them, and quickly turned into a sob. It was the closest thing to an emotion MCoy had seen out of Kirk since he barged into the apartment. 

It hurt him to see Jim in pain, but the endless numbness was so much worse. Kirk was never one to give into apathy, but he was dangerously close now. He could help him with all of the big emotions- he had seen them too many times to count ever since signing onto the _Enterprise_ all those years ago. They were big and loud like a tidal wave crashing to the shore, wreaking havoc- but the damage could be repaired. This nothingness was new territory. There was nothing to be cleaned, just an endless expanse of sand, not unlike the sands of Vulcan, McCoy thought with a bitter irony. 

“Come on. You need to shower, and I need to fix up your hands,”

“I don’t want to,”

“I don’t care. I’m making it a medical order. I’m still your CMO, I still have that authority,”

“So court martial me,”

He rolled his eyes, and took Jim’s hand and hefted him up to his feet. Jim didn’t have it in him to fight, so he wasn’t hard to move. With an arm around his waist, he led him into the bathroom and sat him down on top of the toilet while he ran the water until it got hot. 

“I got it from here, Bones,” he said with a hollow attempt at his old humor when McCoy moved to start stripping off Jim’s clothes. 

Once in the shower, the steaming water melted away the shell he had been hiding behind. The tears poured down his face as the water scalded his back. He had no idea how long he stood under the water, but when he stepped out and into his room, his skin red and raw, there was a small stack of clean clothes to wear, and his dirty ones had been taken away. 

With the fresh t-shirt and sweatpants on, he looked around the room they had shared. The bed they had snuggled together in less than forty eight hours ago, perfectly made and waiting for them to crawl back under the covers once again. It all looked too normal, like almost nothing had changed. But everything had changed and nothing would ever be the same. He fought the temptation trash the room and make it unrecognizable. 

The framed photo on Spock’s bedside table sat there, mocking him. It was a candid picture that Uhura had taken in some bar on some shore leave long before Jim had worked up the courage to tell Spock how he felt. In the image, Jim was laughing, big and loud with his head thrown back and a hand on his stomach at a long forgotten joke, while Spock gazed at him, a hint of a smile on his lips and affection in his eyes. When Nyota showed him the picture after they were finally together, Jim wondered how he never saw that Spock had been in love with him all along. Now the picture brought on a fresh wave of heartbreak. He strode over and slammed the frame face down. He heard the protective glass shatter, but didn’t care. 

He went back into the living area to tell Bones that he could go home. He must have been in the shower longer than he realized because McCoy had obviously been working. The broken glass from the lamp was gone, the dishes of souring soup on the table were cleaned, and something was cooking in the oven. 

Before he could say a word, McCoy guided him to the couch and gingerly took his hand, palm side up. He scanned a tricorder over the cuts and began to pick out small pieces of glass. Once he was satisfied that he got them all, he sprayed them with disinfectant, and ran the regenerator over the wounds. The gentle kindness threatened to overwhelm him again. McCoy cleared his throat and stood and wordlessly retreated from the room. Noises came from the kitchen for a few moments before he reemerged with a mug of coffee and a plate of lasagna.

“You gotta eat something, Jim,” He said before Jim could even open his mouth to protest. He took a few sips of the coffee before taking a tentative bite of the lasagna. All at once, his body both begged for more, and roiled against it; he couldn’t tell if he was about to swallow the rest of it whole, or vomit up the minuscule piece. After a few moments, his body settled and he took a few more small bites. 

“Alright, now let’s get you to bed,” McCoy said when he was satisfied that Jim had eaten enough. 

“Bones, I-” His voice cracked, “I can’t. Our bed… my bed… it smells like him. I’ll wake up thinking it was a dream and have to relive this. I can’t,”

He hesitated. He considered taking him back to his own apartment, but then the trouble would start all over again when he tried to reacclimate to his own space again. “I’ll stay with you. Get some sleep here on the couch,” Jim must have been tired because he didn’t try to protest, just curled himself against McCoy‘s side and let his eyes slip shut. 

He must have been having nightmares, because every so often, he would whimper or say Spock’s name. He clutched onto the front of McCoy’s shirt like it was his life line. Jim’s body trembled against his own, so he wrapped his arms around him as if he could somehow keep from falling apart. Before long, his fingers started to go numb from the lack of circulation, but still he didn’t move. With every tear that leaked through Jim’s eyelids, he hated Spock a little more. All of their bickering in the past was nothing more than friendly banter. This was more than that. He was so enraged by what Spock had done. He couldn’t believe that he would do this to Jim- the same Jim who Spock had almost given his life for time and again. 

While Jim slept, McCoy worked on a PADD. It was careful work, putting someone- a captain especially- on mental health leave without prompting an investigation, but he knew how to do it. When he finished, he rested his head on top of Jim’s and drifted off to sleep. 

He was awoken when Jim began to stir under him. He had kinks in his neck and his back felt like it would never straighten out the right way, but Jim looked a little more alert, his eyes a little brighter. Without a word, McCoy got up and made him a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. 

“Are you trying to fatten me up for something?” He asked, sipping his coffee, when McCoy set the plate down in front of him. 

“I won’t have you wasting away to nothin’ because you forgot to eat. You do that every time you’re upset. Now, I put you on medical leave, so don’t worry about your classes or other duties. But I have a few appointments today. Should I reschedule them, or will you be alright by yourself?” 

“Really, Bones, I’m fine. I’ll take a day or two of leave since you already ordered it but-”

“A week at least,” he interrupted. 

He choked on the bite of toast, “I was just in shock. I don’t need a week. I’ll go crazy if I have to sit still for a whole week,” 

“If you’re hungry again later, there’s more lasagna. I’ll be back later tonight and we’ll talk about your leave then.” He used what Jim liked to call his ‘doctor voice’, the tone of voice that left no room for argument or negotiation- you just did what the good doctor told you to.

Jim took another bite of the bacon and watched as McCoy left for the day, leaving him alone again. 

He stood to clean his plate, before looking around at the empty apartment. There was too much room. It wasn’t big by any means, but without Spock there, he felt like he rattled around, and his voice echoed off of the walls. 

In his younger days, Kirk was never one to relax on leave, instead choosing a new adventure to pursue. As he aged, he learned to take it a little bit easier. But that was with Spock. That was when they would curl into each other and spend an extra hour in bed in the morning just because the bed was warm and they had no desire to untangle their limbs. Every moment spent in Spock’s company felt like an adventure and he had wanted to experience all of it. But now he had to learn to relax by himself. 

He considered going to the park- it had been a long time since he had gotten to walk through nature on Earth- but quickly realized how many people would stop him to talk, and how many people would ask about Spock. Suddenly leaving the house held little appeal. He plucked a book from the shelf and tried to lose himself in its pages, but it didn’t hold his attention. He glanced around the apartment, looking for something to clean just to keep his idle hands busy, but McCoy was thorough, there wasn’t a surface that needed attention. Instead, he found himself walking through the rooms, touching the things that belonged to Spock that he left behind- things that he wouldn’t need for kolinahr. The vase of flowers Spock surprised him with, just to make him happy; the potted plant from Vulcan; the stuffed sehlat Jim won for him on the carnival planet of Waxatol IX. As he roamed, he felt the ghost of Spock’s lips against his own, and the warm brush of fingers against his knuckles, the way Spock would show affection in public. It was like being haunted by the ghost of someone who was still alive. 

He collapsed into the bed, curling himself around the stuffed sehlat, and inhaled the smell of spiced tea that had become so familiar to him. The smell of Spock. Even now when he wanted to be angry with Spock, the smell brought comfort. He drank it in and let it fill his lungs. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend Spock was there next to him. He tried to push that feeling away, knowing how much it would hurt to have to come back to reality. He laid there, feeling numb, with unshed tears in his eyes until he heard the front door open for McCoy. He sat up and tried to shake the feeling off, and wiped his eyes to clear the tears. He went back into the living room so Bones wouldn’t see how he spent his day. 

“How you feeling?” 

“I’m great, see? No need for a full week leave,” McCoy gave him a once over, clearly not accepting his lie, but only grunted in response. He made his way to the kitchen and looked in the fridge. 

“Did you eat anything today?” 

He was about to lie when his stomach rumbled, tattling on him. “I lost track of time,” 

He grunted once more as he started to cook again. 

“Bones, I can just replicate something. Really, I’m fine,”

“I know you are, but I just want to make sure you’re eating,”

With dinner, he poured them each a brandy. 

“They offered me admiralty,” Jim nearly whispered when they finished.

“Do you want to take it?” He asked without flinching. 

“I… don’t know.” He stared into his drink. “I don’t even know why I brought it up. I turned them down,”

“They probably told you to take a few days to think about it, didn’t they?” He spoke slowly and deliberately as if carefully selecting every word.

“When they offered, I was so sure I didn’t want it. Who would give up the greatest happiness they had ever known? But now I’m left wondering how much of that happiness was tied up in… in a person, rather than the job. I could affect more change as an admiral. I wouldn’t be directly involved, but my reach would be wider. Isn’t that why I signed up in the first place? Not for adventure, but because I wanted to help as many people as possible,”

“Maybe you should consider it,” then as if to lighten the heavy mood that had settled over the table, “plus, if you take it, I could go for a day or two without having to worry that you’re about to get yourself killed,” 

“I could still get into plenty of trouble as an admiral,” he said with a smirk, and for a moment, he was almost the same Jim old again, teasing his best friend. 

“Why don’t you take this week off to think about it?”

“Is that your sly way of telling me you’re not going to shorten my leave?”

“Could be. But I really think you’d be good at it,”

“I’ll think about it,” he conceded. 

With a thinly veiled lie about having had too much to drink, McCoy stayed the night again on Jim’s couch. Jim didn’t fight too hard because the thought of waking up alone in the apartment still scared him. 

It became routine. They woke up and had breakfast together, Bones came back to Jim’s apartment and made them dinner, and then stayed the night. During the days, true to his word, Jim tried to make a decision about accepting the promotion. He reached out to an old academy friend who had been promoted a year before. She responded with an innocent enough message. Explaining that she loved her new position and how much more she was able to do. When Jim read her closing sentences, he regretted ever sending the message. 

“I am surprised that you’d want to give up being captain, though; especially with Spock as your first! You two are so great as a team and a couple. Anyway, give him my best,” He wanted to throw the PADD across the room as he was hit with the realization that he would have to explain, over and over again, at every meeting and social function, that Spock had left him. That he had examined their relationship and found it lacking. 

How would he tell the crew? Most of the senior officers would be staying on the _Enterprise_, and the absence of Spock would be like a gaping black hole in the center of the bridge. Not to mention the looks of pity he was sure to get- they would all mean well, of course, but he could never command the same respect from them after knowing what happened. They would only ever see him as a failure. 

For a brief moment, he could see why people would turn to a life of seclusion and hide away on some far off planet where visitors are held with suspicion. Quickly though, he pushed that thought to the side- a life of isolation would surely push him to madness. 

When the week was done, Bones made dinner as usual, and Jim helped by chopping onions. Without looking up, he nearly whispered “I’m going to take it,”

“You say something?” He turned to scoop up small pile of onions. 

“The admiralty. I’m uh,” he stuttered, “I accepted. I sent a message to Admiral L’Ha this morning saying I want it.” He took another onion and continued to chop just to give himself something to focus on. His eyes were damp, but weather it was from the onion or the onslaught of emotion, he wasn’t sure. 

“Admiral Kirk. That’s got a pretty nice ring to it, I’d say,” 

The next day came a slew of paperwork into his inbox. If this was an indication of what was to come, he was beginning to second guess his decision. 

His hand cramped and his eyes burned, but by the time Bones arrived for dinner, he was mostly finished. 

“Jim, I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here tonight. I have to leave in a few hours for a doctors conference on Terive. It was last minute or else I would have told you earlier,”

“Go, I’ll be fine. Besides, I'll be busy preparing to go back to my class tomorrow and I have to finish the promotion paperwork,” 

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” 

Before he left, McCoy must have sent a memo to the _Enterprise_ crew about the promotion, because he began receiving messages congratulating him and sending their love. Oddly, none of them mentioned Spock, for which Jim was eternally grateful. Likely that was McCoy’s doing as well, so he made a mental note to thank him when he got back to Earth. 

Slowly, things began to return to something resembling normal. McCoy would go back to his own house after dinner, then eventually, even the dinners slowed until they only had them once a week. 

“Have you thought about getting a different apartment?” McCoy asked over dinner one night a few weeks later. 

“I like this one,” Kirk responded easily. 

“Your ceiling leaks and your neighbors are terrible,” 

“The leak is new. I’m getting it fixed. And the neighbors aren’t so bad,”

He stared at him for a moment and, as if on cue, there was the joyful shouting from the academy students who lived next door. 

McCoy rolled his eyes when Jim shrugged and said, “They’re just kids. I remember being that age, I don’t hold a little bit of noise against them,”

“This place was meant to be temporary. But now that you decided to stay, I think you should consider somewhere more befitting the fleet’s youngest admiral,” he grinned, truly proud of his best friend. 

“What if…” He chewed his bottom lip and shoved his food around the plate with his fork, “What if he comes back?”

“Then I kick his ass,” he said matter-of-fact-ly around a mouthful of potatoes. 

“I’m serious, Bones. What if he comes back and knocks on that door and someone else answers? How will he know where to find me?”

“If it mattered that much he shouldn’t have left. He can do a little work in winning you back if he ever realizes what a mistake he made,” 

They finished their meal in silence and just before McCoy left, there was more shouting from the neighbors, and a few drops of water fell from the ceiling and landed on Kirk’s nose. With a light laugh, he bid his friend goodnight, and began looking for somewhere else to live. 

**Part 2: Moving on**

The new apartment suited him fine. It was much bigger than the one he and Spock shared though, so on lonely nights, he felt like he rattled around in the empty rooms; but Spock’s ghost didn’t follow him as much in this one. The remnants of that life were swept tidily under the rug, hidden from view, but never really gone. The only trace of Spock was the photograph on the bedside table, it’s frame still broken from Kirk’s almost childlike rage. The furniture no longer smelled of Spock, but on those lonely nights, Jim would put a kettle of water on and brew a cup of Spock’s Vulcan spiced tea. With the familiar scent and the too warm cup in his hands, he could almost pretend he wasn’t alone. Thankfully however, with a demanding schedule of an admiral, plus the command course he continued to teach, lonely nights were easy to avoid. 

Every so often, he could feel that warm silver thread that connected him to Spock as if it was being pulled tight and tested. It felt almost good and safe, made him feel whole again. But then, more often, were the days when it felt as if someone was hacking away at the other end with a dull saw- serrated teeth endlessly dragging back and forth across the bond. That could go on for hours while his head throbbed and his heart ached. Spock had never discussed the details of what Kolinahr entailed, but severing their bond must have been part of it. 

When they used to sleep side by side, skin to skin, they often shared dreams(which occasionally made for interesting nights when one of their dreams got particularly randy). But now, as Kirk had recurring dreams of vast endless expanses of sand so hot he blistered on contact and a sun so relentless it baked his skin, he couldn’t be sure if they were images unintentionally sent over their bond, or his own horrible imaginings of what happened during Kolinahr, but either way, he woke up sweating and near tears, desperate to rescue a man who did not want or need recusing. On those nights, he had to sternly remind himself that Spock simply didn’t want him; whatever he had done or failed to do, he couldn’t live up to what Spock wanted. On those nights, he would call McCoy, who would be there in minutes with a bottle of brandy, and they would drink half the bottle until Kirk could finally sleep again. 

When McCoy suggested going out for drinks after work one day, he was hesitant. These days he mostly kept to himself. Work, home, repeat. It was better to keep busy with work. When he was at work, he didn’t need to think about how lonely he was; didn’t have the time to dwell on the dull ache that still held firmly onto his chest. But McCoy insisted, so he eventually relented. 

“Good to finally see you out of that stuffy uniform, Jim,” Bones clapped him on the back when he arrived at the bar. 

Jim chuckled lightly as he flagged down the bartender to order drinks. 

“Now that you’re all settled in, how’s admiralty life treating you?” McCoy asked once they both had a drink in their hands.

“It’s great,” Kirk could hear how flat his voice sounded. McCoy didn’t believe it for a second. 

“Once more, but with feeling this time,”

“I just miss it, you know? Being the captain. I miss the Enterprise and her crew, and working with you every day. I miss hopping from planet to planet, star system to star system, narrowly escaping death. I miss staring into the eyes of a no-win scenario and wrenching the most unlikely win from it’s jaws,”

“While I certainly don’t miss the weekly near death experiences, it really was like one big family, wasn’t it? I wouldn’t mind having that again,” 

They ruminated on that for a few moments, both thinking back to their days on board the _Enterprise_.

“You know,” Kirk said, finally breaking the silence, “I almost feel bad for how I treated the admirals back in the day now that I’m in their shoes. Last week, I was on board the _Opportunity_ to get to that conference on that Juturo II, and I just kept finding myself on the bridge, like I forgot I wasn’t captain. Like the chair was pulling me toward it as if it knew that that’s where I belong,” he paused, pensive, before adding with a laugh, “then I started making suggestions to the captain. I’m sure I drove her crazy the same way they drove me crazy,” 

“Sounds like you were your own worst nightmare,”

“I really was! I didn’t even realize it until I saw the look on her face when she looked to her first officer. The same exasperated look I used to give Spock,” his laughter stumbled over the name. He cleared his throat, plastered his smile back into place and tried to finish the story, but it didn’t seem quite as funny any more. “I ended up spending the rest of the time in the botany lab pestering some poor ensign just to keep myself from going back to the bridge,” 

McCoy laughed at the thought of a harried ensign trying to entertain an admiral while still doing their job. “You used to drive Sulu crazy when you would visit botany when you were bored. You always had so many questions,”

“I think it’s fair for the captain to ask questions,” 

“He said you’d be down there for hours off duty asking hundreds of questions,”

“I don’t know about hundreds...”

“Uh huh,” 

“Alright,” Kirk laughed, throwing his hands in the air as if admitting defeat, “I asked a few questions. But it was interesting stuff. When I was in the academy, if I couldn’t make it in the command track I was going to be a botanist. She didn’t seem too bothered though. In fact she seemed happy to have someone to talk to. And her passion was contagious,”

A mischievous twinkle entered McCoy’s eye. “Was she cute?”

“Oh, come on, Bones. It wasn’t like that. I meant her passion for what she does. I was old enough to be her father,” he sighed and took another sip of his drink. “Plus it was nice to have a conversation where the other person wasn’t dying to ask what happened to Spock. Every time I speak to someone, I just see it in their eyes. It’s like they’re trying to decide if it’s too soon to ask why he left,” 

Without a word, McCoy ordered them another round. 

Too many drinks later, the two of them were laughing uproariously at some shared story only half remembered when luck had turned against them and everything went wrong. In the moment, they weren’t laughing, but looking back, it was quite a funny story. 

McCoy looked up and waved someone over to them. Kirk recognized one as McCoy’s latest fling, a pretty betazoid with eyes so big they seemed to take over their face. The other was a tall, lithe being with straight black hair and skin tinted green- half orion by the looks of him. 

“Jim, you know Liana already. This is their friend Uqis,” McCoy said, indicating the man who seemed intent on keeping at least one hand on Kirk at all times, no matter how much he politely shrugged him off. 

A slender hand began to snake it’s way up from his knee up to his thigh. He flinched back away from the touch. “Admiral James Kirk,” he held out his right hand, desperate to keep this interaction as professional as he could while his head swam with Andorian whiskey. 

“Aw, come on Jim, a good lay will do you a world of good. Besides I thought green skin was your type,” Bones teased.

Jim froze, a vice seemed to close around his heart. His hands balled into fists at his side and his short nails bit into the meat of his palm. He tried to remind himself that they had both had had too much to drink, and while his methods weren’t great, his intentions were good. He decided it was time to leave; this would all seem very minor after a good night’s sleep to sober up. 

“Okay,” he said, taking a step back from the bar and once again plucking an increasingly brazen hand from his lap, “I see what this is. I think it’s time for me to turn in for the night- alone. You three have fun,” He tried to give his most charming grin and turned to leave. 

“Jim, this isn’t still about Spock is it? It’s been over a year,” He grabbed onto Kirk’s elbow to keep him in place. 

“I know how long it’s been, Bones,” he spat, harsher than he meant it. He took a deep breath and focused on toning down the anger in his voice, “I just thought I was going to have a drink with an old friend, not a blind double date like an inept teenager,”

“Now, you know that’s not what I think,” he sounded almost stern, as if the accusation had sobered him somewhat. 

“Look, Bones. I know that but I’m just,” he trailed off and sighed before beginning again, “I’m too busy to date, and I’m too old for flings. That’s not my life anymore,”

“You were too busy back when you were captain, too.” Back to treading lightly over the ground of mentioning Spock. 

“That was different,” he shrugged his shoulders , “That was…” he paused again, searching for the right word, but none would come, so he let out a heavy sigh and finished, “different,” he looked suddenly more tired than he had just moments ago. 

“Alright well, you go get some rest,” he patted Jim on the shoulder, an unspoken, but understood apology.

“Have fun and don’t get into too much trouble,” he winked and gestured at the two newcomers, still standing by the bar. 

Kirk turned and left the bar, still shaken, but the cool air cleared his head so he walked back to his apartment. Once there, he brewed a pot of tea and inhaled the spicy scent that was so familiar, and was asleep before the cup of tea was half gone. 

He woke the next morning to the sound of his door buzzing. He called out to allow entrance to Bones, the only person who ever called. 

Before he even had both feet in the apartment, he started his apology. “Jim, I’m sorry. I should never have said any of that. It was a stupid idea to begin with, and then I had a few too many. I guess my tolerance isn’t what it used to be,”

“Forget it, Bones,” He said with an easy smile, “We both had a little too much last night. Really. Don’t even think about it,” 

He dumped the remaining cold tea down the sink and McCoy wrinkled his nose at the smell. 

“You really drink that stuff?” 

Suddenly embarrassed by his habit, he responded with a mumbled “I didn’t want caffeine before bed,”

Jim was expecting a snarky comment about just replicating decaf, but was instead met by silence, likely because McCoy was still a little embarrassed by the things he said at the bar. 

“Bones,” Jim started as he began to brew a pot of coffee for the two of them, “I know you worry about me, and I appreciate it, but you don’t need to. I’m fine, really. I just don’t feel the need to throw my heart around the way I used to,”

“It was a harebrained idea to begin with. I guess I wanted to see you happy again. The way you used to be when you would fall head over heels for someone,”

“I can’t imagine wanting to be with anyone else now. The very first time I laid eyes on Spock I was totally infatuated with him. Then over chess games, and meals, and late nights on the bridge I knew I was in love. But I never thought he would see me as more than his captain until that mission on that planet in the Crequa system,”

“You know, neither of you ever told me what happened planet side on that mission. I knew the official version that you sent to Starfleet, and I knew that after that, you stopped coming to me moaning about how he’d never love you back,”

Jim smiled, recalling his closest brush with death, but also the day that brought him to life. “Then you know _almost_ everything. The only thing we left out was when I was bleeding out in that cave, I had my head in Spock’s lap and he kept trying to keep me calm. He was so sure I wasn’t going to die. He held my hand and wiped the sweat off my face, while telling me about the calculations he was running in his head, just so I didn’t have to hear the sound of my own breath rasping in my lungs. 

“After a while, we still hadn’t heard from the ship, so I thought, ‘Well, this is it. We’re alone in a cave and I’m about to die, I might as well tell him,’ He just kept holding my hand and whispering that I would be fine and his eyes filled with tears. He denies that even when I show him my memory of that day. He says there was dust in the air or my memory is skewed because I was dying. But I know what I saw,”

“Damn stubborn Vulcan,” McCoy laughed and Jim laughed with him. 

“Then we were finally beamed back and you fixed me up. I was worried that he would want to transfer but I couldn’t bring myself to regret telling him. So when he visited me in sick bay, I apologized if it made him uncomfortable, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret telling him. He had assumed that my confession was nothing more than the ramblings of a dying man. 

“Once we got everything straightened out, he kissed me and sent my heartbeat sky high. That’s when you came rushing in to check on me. But after that everything clicked into place for us,” 

With a start, Kirk realized that for the first time in a long time, he could think about Spock without making his chest ache. He wasn't over him, deep in his heart, he knew he would never fully be over a love that deep, but it was good to be able to recall the good times he had had while they lasted.

**Part 3: Coming Home**

With everything that happened with V’Ger, Jim hadn’t had a moment to really sit down and talk to Spock since his return. They discussed the mission, sure, but not a word about the past few years. The closest they had gotten was when Spock held his hand in a biobed and tried to explain “this simple feeling”, causing Jim to melt in his warm grasp. So when he finally had a chance to call Spock to his quarters, he was unreasonably nervous.

In the mirror, he tugged at his collar and straightened his shirt. He gently pressed against the wrinkles that had started to take hold around the corners of his eyes, trying to wish them smooth again, how he looked three years ago when the love of his life up and left, with only a note for an explanation. 

When the door chimed, his stomach dropped and his breath caught in his throat. He steadied himself and called “Come,” in as strong a voice as he could muster. 

“Oh, it’s just you,” Kirk sighed when it was Bones who walked through the doorway. 

“Yeah, _just_ me. You know you’re going to give me a complex.” He grinned as he plopped into a chair. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just… I asked Spock to meet me here in a few minutes. I want to get a little clarity in case he…” he trailed off.

“In case he leaves again you mean,” he said sternly, hopping out of the chair. 

“Bones, come on. Can’t you just be happy for me? We don’t know what he’s going to do,”

“Have you considered that maybe he came back for some selfish reason that he still hasn’t told us, and is going to leave you high and dry, _again_, and I’ll be here, same as always, picking up the pieces,”

“It’s not like that this time. I’m not getting my hopes up, I just want to see if he’ll give me an answer- I just want to know why. I’m sorry I put you into a position where you felt like you had to take care of me those first few weeks, but-”

“You’ve apologized a thousand times, and thanked me a thousand more. But I don’t want you to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I want him to apologize to you,”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the door chimed again and the butterflies were back. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it slightly. 

“You sure this is such a good idea?” McCoy asked, his eyes soft, the worry about his friend slipping through. 

He sighed and shrugged before calling out for Spock to come in. He stood just inside the door frame, not moving to enter the room, but all Jim could do was stare. He wanted to drink in every nuance of that face. He needed to memorize the new signs of age, and catalogue them away so he wouldn’t forget how beautiful he still was. His tall, graceful frame stood perfectly still with his hands clasped behind his back, but poised as if ready to take the single step needed to leave the room at the first sign of danger. 

“Spock,” He meant for it to come out as a firm greeting, but somewhere between his vocal cords and his tongue, it turned into a fond whisper. His name felt right in his mouth, he wanted to say the name over and over, make up for all the times he should have said it over the past three years. 

“Admiral. Doctor,” Spock said in return, nodding to each of them in turn.

Jim had nearly forgotten McCoy’s presence. Part of him wished he would leave the room and allow him to speak with Spock alone; but part of him was glad for the support, because he knew that when Spock left his quarters, no matter what answers he had gotten, it would still devastate him. He would feel crushed under the weight of his grief once again, but he needed to have this conversation- if he let Spock leave a second time without having gotten any answers, he would surely go mad. 

“Spock,” he said again, a little stronger this time. When a short silence followed, he added, “Have a seat,”

Spock hesitated, glancing in the direction of the exit, then firmed his face, and sat stiffly in the chair nearest the door. McCoy hovered in the corner, perched on the arm of a chair, with his arms folded across his chest. 

“Spock.” He couldn’t stop saying his name. He spent so long avoiding saying it out loud, and now, with him in the same room, he couldn’t stop himself. He was about to demand his answers, and not give up until he was satisfied, but instead all that came out was a meek, “How have you been?” as he dropped into the seat nearest Spock.

“I am adequate, Admiral.” 

“Can we please drop the titles, Spock? We’re in my quarters about a personal matter. Just call me Jim.” Spock nodded, so Jim continued hesitantly, wringing his hands together, “I was wondering if you would be willing to have a conversation with me,”

“I believe that we currently _are_ having a conversation, Jim,”

Jim chuckled in spite of the anxiety creeping through his bones-same old Spock. Maybe a lot had changed, but Spock himself was just the same as ever. 

“What I mean is,” he hesitated, standing and beginning to pace, “What I mean is a conversation regarding our past. What happened three years ago. When you… when you left,”

“I am open to conversation, though I don’t know what there is to discuss. I left to pursue Kolinahr, to purge emotion,”

“Yeah, Spock. I know that. I have your letter memorized, believe me, I know. What I can’t figure out is _why_. Everything was normal. I didn’t know anything was wrong until you were gone. If you had told me where I was falling short of your expectations, I could have tried harder to be enough,”

He looked taken aback. “Jim, I-” he paused, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted, as if trying to understand a new species. “I do not seek forgiveness, for I know I do not deserve it,” 

“I’ll say,” Bones mumbled from the corner where he stood. 

“But it is important to me that you understand. It was nothing you did that drove me to pursue Kolinahr, but my own failings- both as a human and a Vulcan, but mostly, my failings where you are concerned. I deeply regret not making that clear enough in my explanation to you,” 

“The old ‘it’s not you, it’s me’, huh Spock?” McCoy grumbled, his voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. 

“Yes, Doctor, that is precisely it,” 

“Apparently you lasted Kolinahr long enough to purge your understanding of sarcasm,”

Ignoring Bones, Jim muttered, “I still don’t understand,”

As if old habit, Spock stood and took a step toward Jim, his hand outstretched to intertwine their fingers; remembering himself, he snapped back to his original position, and clasped his hands behind his back. 

“I left because I knew, logically, that I could never provide you with the emotional support you require. I could not allow myself to be the cause of you living an unfulfilling life,”

“Spock, you were doing that. I wasn’t unfulfilled. In fact, I was the most fulfilled I have ever been. Even when I was just your captain, I understood that you do things a little differently than I do- and that was fine, wonderful in fact. I loved that you showed me your affection in millions of small moments every day. You made my coffee for me in the mornings, and you always carried an extra PADD stylus because you knew I always forgot one. You were constantly there and you knew me better than anyone else ever had. And besides all of that, I loved you. And when you left? When you left, Spock, that nearly killed me. I’ve spent the past three years trying to convince myself that I’ll feel okay one day, that eventually this hole in my chest that you left would heal over,”

“Three years?” 

“Out of everything I just said, that’s what sticks? Yes, Spock. Three years. You’ve been gone for three years,”

“I am aware of how long I was gone,” he said, allowing the approximation to stand without correction, “What I mean to question was that you mourned our relationship for all of that time?”

“Every day,” Jim replied with such sincerity and sadness, he could have sworn he saw Spock cringe. 

“According to my research,” Kirk’s eyes widened in disbelief, but stayed silent, allowing Spock to finished, “you should not have mourned the relationship for more than six months,” 

“What uh…” strangely, he almost wanted to laugh, “what research would that be?” 

“I cross referenced data from your previous relationships with data available regarding standard earth relationship advice from various books and periodicals. Using that information as a base, I was able to approximate that your life and emotions should return to normal after four to six months,”

“Spock, you researched dumping me and never once considered that I might deserve more than a letter? Actually, it was less than a letter- it was a note. Five sentences. Two years together- you called us T’hy’la, _more than soulmates_. And all I get is five sentences? And then you expect me to just get over it? That’s… That’s,” he hesitated trying to find words for what he just heard, “illogical. For as long as I live, the love I have for you will never waver,”

They both ignored the harrumphs and sighs coming from the corner of the room, where Bones was clearly not impressed. 

“I believed I was doing what was best for you. I thought that a note would be more concise, and better articulate my reasoning. And I knew that if you asked me to stay I would have, even though I saw that as the selfish option. I believed that was putting my own feelings over your well-being. But Jim, please know that, even now, I would do anything you asked of me,” 

Jim wasn’t sure when or how it happened, but they were suddenly standing nearly chest to chest. He could smell the spicy sweet smell of the tea and incense, and feel the warm breath brush against his ear. Between them, Spock’s hands twitched, as if they longed to reach out and touch. Slowly, Jim reached out, as if afraid Spock would pull back. As soon as their hands met, that warm, familiar heat seemed to send tendrils from his fingertips all the way through his body, like it was taking root there. He could feel them wrap around his heart and snake through his mind. Spock’s eyes fluttered shut. Overcome, Jim pushed himself into his toes to place a gentle kiss to Spock’s lips. After three years, they still fit together so perfectly, like they were truly made for each other. 

“Then stay,” he whispered against Spock’s lips when he pulled back. 

“Always, Ashayam. You will have to order me away from your side,”

“I think I quite like where you are,” he said with a breathless laugh. 

Spock pulled one hand free and wrapped it around Jim’s waist, pulling them flush together, and kissed him again. Tentatively at first, then hungrily, rapturously, trying to pull the other closer still. Jim tangled one hand in Spock’s always immaculate hair, and with the other, slid and rubbed and entangled his fingers with Spock’s. Neither of them heard McCoy’s disapproving grunt or the door sliding open and closed to allow him to leave. 

Within Jim’s mind, he could feel the tendrils that had taken root begin to shift again. They seemed to come together and all braid around the dull weak thread that had once been his bond with Spock, making it shimmer with love and beauty and _Spock_. As they held each other, the bond continued to twist and strengthen until it was more rope than thread, and Jim could feel that its strength was virtually unbreakable. 

Jim would have been perfectly happy to stay like that forever, but the chiming of the comm panel forced them to pull away from each other. 

“Admiral, your presence is required on the bridge,” Uhura’s familiar voice filled the room. 

Jim groaned and pressed his forehead into Spock’s shoulder, “Acknowledged,”

Together, they made their way to the bridge, and it almost felt like old times again. 

“Mr Spock,” Jim said with a teasing hint to his authoritative voice once they were both in the turbo lift, “in all of your -no doubt, very precise- calculations, did you ever factor in how long we spent repressing our desires, thinking our feelings would not be reciprocated? What about other less quantifiable variables, such as how deeply we cared for each other? Did you ever consider that my relationship with you was an outlier in all respects, and had it been included in your observations, would have severely skewed your average?” 

Spock’s eyebrow rose, “I had considered those values to be constants, Admiral,”

“Ah, you see that’s where your equation fell apart. Perhaps once we get back to Earth, you would consider coming back home to my apartment and doing further research? It’s a new place, but everything you left is still there,” he was inexplicably nervous again.

“I would like that very much, Jim,” Spock said softly. 

For the first time in a long time, Jim was looking forward to getting back to his apartment early with no responsibilities to take his attention away from Spock.

**Author's Note:**

> I had the song Sentimental Heart by She & Him stuck in my head for like 48 hours and could not get it out and this is what came out of that.


End file.
